When Jody Wallace and Susan Braasch cross the finish line at the Women's Distance Festival in Washington Park on Saturday (note I said “when,” not “if”), Jody will have reached the top of a very, very tall mountain.

“We have two goals,” says Susan, Jody's classmate in Springfield High School's class of 1972, “get a T-shirt and finish. We'll probably be the last ones done.”

But there is a reason for that. In 1983, when Jody was 28 years old and living in Chicago, she was in a car that was hit head-on by a driver who had swerved to miss a deer. She was in a coma for four months.

“When she woke up,” Susan says, “she had no memory except for how to count to 10 in French and, she's Jewish, a Jewish childhood song. Not only didn't she know her husband or her father, she didn't know the concept of ‘father' or ‘husband.'”

The aftermath was too much for Jody's husband. Their marriage broke up. Jody moved back to Springfield to recover, living with her father, Dan Rubin. Her mother had died when Jody was in high school.

About 25 years ago, Jody encountered one of two major life-changing events she has experienced since the accident. It happened when she decided to attend a summer camp in Carbondale designed for people who were coping with the aftermath of severe head injuries. Since she cannot drive a car, a member of her Springfield support group drove her to the camp. It turned out that Jody got more than she bargained for because that is where she met her future husband, Joe Wallace of Granite City.

Joe had been in a motorcycle accident and also suffered a head injury, which is why he was at the camp. He and Jody were married six months later.

“We got married on Valentine's Day,” says Jody, then adds with a laugh, “Since we both had head injuries, we decided on Valentine's Day so we'd remember the date.”

And then, two years ago, the second life-changer. She saw on Facebook that members of her Springfield High class of 1972 were meeting regularly at Golden Corral. She and Joe went to the restaurant, and that is what led to her reconnection with Susan.

“We were friends in high school,” Susan says. “I think her personality is the same. She's just the same warm and loving and fun person, the same person I knew when I was 16.”

Over the past two years, Susan and Jody have become as close as sisters. Their bond was sealed when Jody had another major medical problem.

The femur in her leg broke. It had become brittle from her medication. Surgeons implanted a titanium rod in Jody's leg. Jody moved into Regency Nursing Care for rehabilitation. She had to learn to walk again, and, as she did, Susan was by her side.

Page 2 of 2 - “She worked her way back from a wheelchair to a walker to a cane,” Susan recalls.

Jody was walking pretty well until last fall, when the pain returned.

An exam showed that the titanium rod in her leg was bent.

“Doctors said there was only a 2 percent chance that rod would ever bend,” Susan says. “Hers bent. She had to have surgery all over again.”

As Jody returned to Regency for more rehab at the end of October, Susan and Joe stayed by her, helping and encouraging her to get going one more time. This spring, Susan told Jody she had this crazy idea.

But friends don't let friends give up. They went to Washington Park to get started. Jody, leaning on a walker, put one foot in front of the other, and that's how it began.

“I told her,” Susan says, “ ‘We're going to do the Women's Distance Festival if I have to drag you.' The first time we did a 2-mile walk in Washington Park, it took her 55 minutes, and she had to stop seven times.

“Our plan was to walk twice a week. Every time, she shaved a couple of minutes off and stopped less frequently. Last time we did it (which was Tuesday), it took 42 minutes, and she didn't stop at all.”

Susan and Jody will be in the park on Saturday, butterflies fluttering but determined as hell.

“There will be 600 ladies there!” Jody marvels. “I'm used to walking with just her. I don't know if I can do it with all those people. But I'm going to try, and I'm going to try do it without holding on to her. I just don't know.

“I tell her and everybody else I'm not going to win, but it's just the idea that I can do this and finish it. I will be very, very happy. Fabulous.”

The top of that mountain is so close.

Know of something quirky? Emotional? Funny? Inspiring? Dave Bakke is your man and his deadline is always near. Pitch your idea to him at dave.bakke@sj-r.com or (217)788-1541. His column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. To read more, visit www.sj-r.com/bakke.